**Wahida! Wahida!!** I saw it quickly enough. “Hello, how about we sit and talk?” I was sitting there looking at him; the only thing between us was raw honesty. There was no hiding, no pretense because, God, why don’t you love your brother, Shahid (Bom Boy)? I lowered my gaze. I could come clean and confess my true feelings. But could I? No, I couldn’t. I looked up to see him staring at me, aware that it wasn’t that simple. Don’t you want to know if I like you? I pondered, but it wasn’t easy to muster the courage. He knocked on the door and said yes. “You have to make a martyr out of me, whether you like it or not. That’s me.” Honestly, I DON’T LOVE HIM like that, he should be pushed away. I’m sorry… he was angry and stormed off.

In the bedroom, someone asked, “How are you?” I kept silent, not wanting to engage. “Don’t talk to him,” another voice chimed in. “Do not touch her, but I’ll find out where she is.” Suddenly, he punched me and struck my leg. Amin held him back, and I ran out crying.

In our father’s room, they were watching a Nigerian film. Wahida quickly reached out and held me. “Did you call sister?” My mom’s body was frail, and I was crying. Sister Mahida was already sobbing. “Abba,” he pleaded, “he convinced me, please. Yes, I’m sorry, baby.” I picked up the phone. “Never mind,” he said, “he’s not Faruq; he’s a married man. Call me Faruq.”

Wahida got up quickly and left, and he entered, saying, “Abba Mata.” Abba scolded her as she left the room. “Come on, that’s why my sister has to leave.”

I entered the room, said my farewells, then retreated. “Say goodbye or eat your father,” Mahida turned around. When she came back, she reported that Abba said it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes for him to arrive.

He came to greet our father and looked at Faruq. “What did Wahida do to you?” he asked Faruq, his eyes wide. “Everything that brought us together,” Abba said to me. “You’re not being honest, son. Why are you being rude to him? Where’s the sky?” I remained silent, and they gave it to me.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Faruq said, dropping to his knees. “For God’s sake, daughter.”

“God bless you, Dad,” I translated for him.

As we left the room, Haji Sulaiman watched Faruq and said, “What you’re doing isn’t right, Ummaru.”

“You made this girl look like a bag,” Ummaru retorted. “Why are you hitting her? By the way, it’s the same day you were playing with them. Why aren’t they showing any signs of regret?”

“I love you, don’t you?” I asked, not holding back any longer. “Don’t play games with all of them.” I turned to Faruq. “I DON’T LOVE YOU!!”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” he said.

“God bless you, sir,” I conveyed. “Did he break the journey? Do you know the twelfth plane? It will ascend even if I hear it.”

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